Behind the Door
by raven1307
Summary: One-shot about what happened behind the door of Knighton Hall when Robin of Locksley came back after five years at war.


Her world had fallen away beneath her feet.

Time itself seemed to stop with everything moving in exaggerated slow motion. All her senses felt dulled and numb, her mind blank from shock. Her breath deepened as she tried in vain to steady herself, her vision blurring from unshed tears.

In that one moment she felt alone in the world, as no other could share in her turmoil. She vaguely registered the panicked tone of her father, ushering away the cause of her sudden torment, but failed to hear any of the words spoken. Her heart pounded unbearably in her chest, and deafened her ears to everything except its repetitive beat. She clung to the old timber staircase for support, no longer trusting her own legs to remain strong. Her mind began to race for explanations and began to doubt what her eyes had previously glimpsed.

 _No_ , it begged, _no I was mistaken. It cannot be him. He wouldn't have the nerve..._

But through the fog of confusion, one thing rang out clear and unmistakeable.

"Sir Edward it is me, Robin of Locksley!"

An involuntary gasp escaped her lips, and she cursed herself for being so affected. She felt a knot tightening in the pit of her stomach, unbearable and sickening. Her head began to swim and could not comprehend how he could be standing just beyond the door as though the past five, brutal years had never been. She closed her eyes in an attempt to wrestle back control of her own body, taking in deep, steadying lungfuls of air.

Her mind raced over the misery she had felt these past five years. The pain of rejection still felt as raw to her as the day he decided to leave for war and the heartbreak had never subsided. In one swift decision her whole future had been turned upside down, and the excruciating pain that had crippled her still tore at her heart. Her sorrow had never been cured. She had lost her gentle and carefree nature and in it's place had gained a wearisome and tired outlook on life. All these years she had worn a dignified mask, pretending to all those around her that she no longer cared or thought of her once-betrothed. Now the truth exploded forth, and what she spent so long suppressing could no longer be contained. It demanded to be heard.

She had caught sight of him from her chamber window, with his old friend riding alongside. She had rushed downstairs before she knew where her feet had taken her, to the bewilderment of her dear father who had then spied the Lord through the open window. Terror had quickly seized the old man, fear for his daughter's reaction and panic at the thought of what Vaisey's men would say. He could no longer shield his daughter from the evil whims of the new sheriff and Vaisey had been waiting for an excuse for such a long time. But the fear of how Marian would take this new development swamped all other considerations. He had witnessed how the events of five years ago had broken her spirit and nothing had been able to revive them. Since that day she had laughed, danced and socialised but to a father's eye her hollow, empty soul had been all too clear. She had lost the spark in her eyes and her vivacious thirst for life. It had taken so long for the shadow to lift and although she had never recovered to be the carefree, joyous girl she once was, she had regained her strong will and determination. All this now seemed threatened with his return.

 _Get him away!_ The anxious, parental thought raced through his mind. _Get him away from here!_

With surprising speed Edward had dashed across the room and wrenched open the door, looking to halt the advancing riders and leaving Marian quite alone. It was here that she still stood, eyes shut and weak from shock.

Her palms felt sticky and her brow damp from a cold sweat. She had dreaded the day when she would have to look into those eyes again, knowing the truth. She had never been enough.

She would have to face him again. He, who had caused her insufferable humiliation and left her the subject of constant, idle gossiping. She had heard every one of their hushed tones whispering behind her back and had to endure her female peers pressing their hands against their mouths, failing to silence their snickering. They had been so envious of the affection bestowed on Marian from the handsome Lord Locksley, now they delighted themselves in her misery.

Her stomach twisted and clenched, as though it were held in an iron fist which was squeezing ever tighter. The pain threatened to send her off her feet again. She screwed her eyes tight shut, and shook her head violently to dispel the pain that was welling up inside. Slowly her rage began settle in.

 _No,_ she reprimanded herself, _if I have to see him again it will not be as a weak, miserable wreck. No, I must be indifferent and hold my head up with dignity._

She felt her strength returning, her legs no longer felt like brittle twigs ready to snap. She raised herself onto her feet and ran her hot palms through her locks.

 _How can I be so weak?!_ she chastised her thoughts. _How foolish can I be? I will not fall apart at the mere sight of a man who left me without a backward glance. I will not care. I do not care!_

Her breathing slowed as her senses came back. Her eyes slowly opened with a steely determination for all to see. Her anger would not be quelled, it was her strength and gave her the resolve to do what needed to be done. In the violent years she had faced alone, her anger had compelled her act to change the conditions that she saw and loathed. When leered at and belittled in council meetings her anger had kept her there, to spite those that would discredit her and to prove her own merit against their stupidity. Now she needed her anger again to give her the strength to face him.

She could hear the argument unfolding between her father and the rogue that had just sauntered back into their lives. Without thinking she grabbed her beloved bow that stood behind the doorway and notched an arrow to its string. She felt powerful with this weapon in hand, its strength coursing through her veins, adding to the courage already building up inside her. Her hands had shaken slightly on picking up the bow, but now they were firm and ready to act.

For the briefest second she felt nervous, and glanced down at her dress. She wondered if he would seem very altered, and by extension whether she would look different to him. But she swiftly admonished herself for such a silly, fanciful thought and banished such worries to the back of her mind.

She drew back the arrow and with a deep breath, stepped over the threshold.

"You heard my father, leave!"


End file.
